


Small Victories

by seanchaidh



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seanchaidh/pseuds/seanchaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In one alternate universe, Jim Kirk gets left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Victories

Academic suspension.

The words hit Jim Kirk right in the solar plexus, as hard as an actual blow. He could only watch numbly as Bones looked antsy, and then made his apologetic excuse to leave. The expression on his face could only be described as pity, layered with a definite air of “told you so.”

Jim didn’t believe in no-win situations, but he’d be damned if he could think his way out of this problem. He stood on the tarmac, realizing only a few moments later he was the only still figure in a swarming sea of red and black. All he could do was watch as his best friend and the rest of their graduating class heading off for their assigned shuttles.

He still had some dignity. Straightening his shoulders, Jim marched out of the hanger bay and back toward the dorms. He could pout in privacy.

~~~

Barely a dozen steps away, Leonard McCoy tried to ignore his conscience, because what it was suggesting was a bad idea on so many levels... but it was Jim. His best friend, and he just knew Jim was standing there like the lone kid left behind on a field trip. There were ways Leonard could use his medical influence; it could be enough to sneak Jim on board. He deserved a chance as much as the rest of their overeager class did.

"Damn it..." Turning around with a reluctant sigh, he searched the flight deck for his friend -- he wouldn't be hard to miss. He’d be the one pathetic red uniform holding still in a storm of movement.

Not this time. Jim was already gone.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," Leonard muttered to himself, and continued his path to the Enterprise shuttle.

~~~

It was easy enough to find distractions. The beta fleet wouldn’t be gone too long, even if the primary fleet was engaged over in the Laurentian system. What could be so bad, anyway, that Vulcan – despite being a founding Federation planet, always one to avoid their illogical neighbours – needed a hand?

Jim had been eyeing some of the second year cadets for a while, and it was easy to find one who was willing to sneak with him into the library. The sex was a balm for his wounded ego, but as they lay panting and sated by the old stacks, there was a faint orange light suddenly flashing from the windows. Seconds later, the entire structure shuddered.

Not even bothering to completely fasten his tunic, Jim hurried to the nearest window to look. There was a giant beam of fire pouring down into the harbor, just missing the Golden Gate Bridge, and it was coming from space.

By the time Jim emerged outside, completely dressed, the remaining cadets were out on the quad and staring at the sight. Communications and scanners were out, came the reports, and it became clear: this was a trap. All the able ships were gone, and they were defenceless. Something was drilling into the earth’s crust.

He didn't have long to gawk. Commander Butler, one of the flight instructors, grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him back to the shuttle bay.

"I'm on suspension," Jim said, even though it wasn't really a protest.

"Don't care," came the reply. "Come on."

~~~

The shuttle might have been old, but it still had phasers. Butler piloted and Jim operated the tactical – without an accurate sensor reading, no less; a few minutes after launch, they were circling the drill. Jim sighted the target manually, and when he felt confident, he fired. The first volley went wide, but the second and third shots were true. The drill shut off, almost severed from its platform. Bits of metal rained into the bay, and Jim whooped as the enemy ship above – they finally had a view, a strangely familiar asymmetric shape – turned and ran.

Mission accomplished.

The flight deck was crowded with cadets when they landed, and Jim founded himself surrounded the second he stepped onto the tarmac. His ears rang with cheers, his shoulders grew sore from congratulatory claps and his hand numb from enthused shaking. The adulation was wonderful, but for a second, Jim thought he saw Bones at the edge of the crowd. His friend was smiling proudly, clapping along with the other cadets, and his hazel eyes bright as he focused on Jim’s face.

The fleet couldn’t be back yet, could it? Jim started to wave in reply, eager to swap stories, but as the congratulations continued, he lost sight of his friend. Pushing forward, Jim made it to the edge of the crowd and looked around for Bones. He wasn't anywhere to be seen, nor could he see any other upper year cadet.

"Bones?" he called, frowning.

He had to abort the search when a security detail came up with orders to escort him to see Admiral Komack. Jim followed, but kept an eye peeled for signs of the fleet's return. It wasn't looking favorable. The campus still felt half empty with the absence of the upper year cadets, and though the guards weren't saying much, a clenched fist of worry took hold of his gut. And when he finally set foot in Komack's office, he found the sombre-faced admiral studying a PADD with grave interest.

"Reporting as ordered, sir." Jim snapped a smart salute.

"You went flying, Cadet," Komack said, not looking at him, "despite your suspension."

"I went with Commander Butler's permission, sir."

Finally looking up, Komack still looked like he wanted to chew Jim a new one, but instead he forced a smile and went to shake Jim's hand. "Right, well, good work, Kirk. Your father would be proud."

"Does this mean I'm off suspension?" Jim couldn't help grinning despite his worry.

"As much as I might regret it, yes," Komack said. "It's not official yet, we still need to reconvene the council, but as far as I'm concerned, you've been exonerated."

Better late than never, and though Jim wanted to head out and celebrate his new-found freedom, he decided to push his luck instead in a positive way. "Thank you, sir. If I might ask, has there been any news from Vulcan or the fleet?"

Komack's expression darkened, and Jim felt his gut twist further in a way he never wanted to feel again. "We're still trying to put the intelligence together, but from what we can gather, it's not looking good." The admiral pointed to the chair in front of his desk. "You might want to sit down for this, son. As far as we can tell, Vulcan is gone."

"Gone?" Jim stared, not understanding. "Where could it go?"

Komack shook his head. "Destroyed. If I were to guess, what happened here an hour ago has something to do with that particular mystery."

Suddenly, Jim found it hard to breathe properly. "What about the rescue fleet?"

"The picture's far from complete, but there was an attack in orbit around Vulcan." Komack finally sat heavily on the edge of his desk, eyes closed. Jim could only watch him, desperately wanting him to continue and praying the worst hadn't happened. "I've got confirmation so far that the Hood, Farragut, and Truman were destroyed."

"There were seven ships," Jim said, and it felt like a struggle to get the words out. "What about the Enterprise?"

Komack slowly shook his head. "It's listed as a casualty, too. I'm sorry, Cadet."

So that was it. Jim sat there, staring past Komack's shoulder to the window overlooking the campus. If Jim could look down, he'd see the upper-year dorms where he and Bones shared a room; he thought of seeing Bones in the hanger, just half an hour before, and why he'd seen him. He'd always shared his victories with Bones, with booze and their arms slung across each other's shoulders. This time couldn't be different.

"Any survivors?" Jim finally managed.

"A few," Komack said. "We're expecting them in the next twelve hours."

"I want to help coordinate those efforts," Jim told him.

"By all means," the admiral said. "Report to Commodore Perez."

~~~

The survivors came trailing in, having been rescued from escape pods and damaged shuttles by any surviving vessels in the area that Vulcan used to occupy. There was no rhyme or pattern to who had returned: just a hell of a lot of shell-shocked personnel who smiled faintly to be back on terra firma, but their hearts and minds were light years away.

Jim helped out in every way possible, and kept a running tally on the returned personnel. He recognized a few faces from his class, but no one who'd been assigned to the Enterprise. Not yet, anyway, but he held out faintly fading hope.

There was one moment of relief: Gaila returned with a group from the Farragut. He'd held her for long moments as she cried in his arms, and she finally pulled back and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm so glad you weren't there," she said. "It was horrible, Jim."

"Did you see what happened to the Enterprise?" he asked her.

Gaila shook her head. "But I did hear there was one or two escape pods picked up. I checked to see if Nyota was there, but...."

If she knew more, she didn't say. Her eyes teared up again, and she fled the hanger.

Twenty minutes later, the shuttle with the Enterprise survivors landed, and Jim counted them as they disembarked. Out of crew of over four hundred, only thirteen remained. None of them were Bones, but there was someone else in medical blues. Hurrying to her side, Jim caught her forearm before she could get away.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry," he began, and she turned dull blue eyes to stare through him. "Can I get your name, please?"

"Chapel, Christine," she said. "Head nurse."

"Okay, Christine," he said, making sure the information was recorded. "Look, my name is Jim Kirk. I'm a friend of Leonard --"

"McCoy?" she asked.

Jim nodded. "I just... I guess I'm asking if..."

The woman smiled faintly. "He mentioned you."

"He did?"

"He felt sorry for you," Christine continued, and for the first time, she seemed to focus on him. Her eyes also began to tear. "Said he hated leaving his best friend behind."

Jim couldn't help his own bitter smile. "What happened to him?"

"Darkness and silence," she said, and walked away.

*fin*

**Author's Note:**

> I love spooky war stories, and this segment shows that love. This came from a long-ago attempt to write a story called "5 times Leonard McCoy didn't make it back from the Narada mission, and the one time he did." Since one section has eventually morphed into a 200+ page novel, the other tidbits were abandoned. This one, however, feels appropriate to salvage and post on Hallowe'en.


End file.
